


General Delinquency

by Pouler (poulerslashes)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3152390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poulerslashes/pseuds/Pouler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Asahi was first to suspect something was amiss, when he got a handful of unreadable texts from Nishinoya."  Misbehavior leads to misunderstandings and a shift in the relationship between Asahi and Nishinoya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 of this story was written as a stand-alone drabble, but the premise proved too compelling to not continue it.

By the time the third years found them, it was already too late.

Asahi was first to suspect something was amiss, when he got a handful of unreadable texts from Nishinoya.  _Are you butt-texting me?_   he’d responded, and Nishinoya sent him another garbled series of characters, followed by a picture that seemed to be of the left half of his grinning face, Tanaka’s right ear, and what was clearly the ceiling of the gymnasium beyond.

Being that it was nearly midnight and no one had any business being the gym at all, Asahi had called Suga. “Tanaka has a key,” Suga’d said. He’d called Daichi after that, and the three of them met on school grounds.

When they got to the gym, the door was slightly ajar. The lights were on inside, which made Daichi furious. “It’s so  _stupid_ ,” he said, anger hanging like a dark cloud over his face. “It’s like they want to be caught.”

"We’re all going to be caught if we don’t wrap this up," Suga said with a calming hand on Daichi’s shoulder. "I had to sneak out my window."

"Suga, your bedroom is on the second floor."  
  
"Ugh, don’t remind me," Suga said, wincing.

A loud peal of laughter exited the gym, and Daichi glowered again.

"You know, it might be nothing," Asahi said, "they’re probably just goofing off. You know how they are."

Suga clapped him on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go in first, then, hm?”

"No, I –"

"Yes, how good of you to volunteer," Suga continued, and he shoved Asahi toward the door.

"Suga–"

Asahi stumbled up the steps and nearly beaned himself against the gym door. When he regained his balance, he glanced over his shoulder nervously, and Suga gave him a little shooing motion. Asahi put his hand on the handle. He gulped and pulled open the door.

At first, there wasn’t much of anything to see. The gym seemed empty save for a half-empty ball cart in the middle of the court and a handful of volleyballs scattered around it. Asahi took a tentative step into the building with his shoulders hunched protectively around his neck. Daichi shoved him fully inside and followed him in.

"That’s odd," Suga said as he stepped in. "We just heard them in here."

There was a high-pitched giggle somewhere above their heads.

"LOOK!" Tanaka’s voice thundered down at them. "THE SENPAI ARE HERE."

Nishinoya joined into the clamor. “ASAHI-SAN. DAI-SAN. SUGA-SAN. JOIN US.”

They were up on the catwalk. Tanaka leaned dangerously far over the railing, his feet almost off the walkway as he waved exuberantly. Nishinoya had somehow wedged his head through two posts of the railing but otherwise seemed no worse for wear. It was clear that they were both heavily intoxicated.

"You idiots!" Suga called up. "Get down here before you get us all in trouble!"

"No can do, Suga-san!" Nishinoya called back. "I’m kind of stuck!" He wriggled for good show, braced his feet on the railing to tug dramatically, but his head did not come free.

"Dai-san, you’ll save him, right?!" Tanaka bellowed, then he shrank a little in the face of Daichi’s radiant fury. "Right?" he added, a little more apprehensively.

"Did you say Suga-san?" a small voice called from behind the pair of delinquent second-years, and a round face surrounded by a shock of hair peeked over the edge of the walkway. "Suga-san, I’m sorry," Hinata warbled. "I’ve done a terrible thing. Don’t let the captain kick me off the team, Suga-san."

"Hinata…" Suga said in exasperation.

There was a low grumble, essentially incoherent, from somewhere out of sight. Most likely Kageyama, since Hinata was involved. But it seemed the other boys had been too busy – or too sensible – to join the little escapade.

"Alright," Daichi said. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and fingers. "Let’s get them down so we all can go home."

The three of them clambered up the ladder. At the top, they got their first real look at the mess the four had made of themselves. Beer cans littered the catwalk. Suga stepped over them all, nudged the empties out of the way with his feet. “Where’d you get all this beer, anyway?”

"Ryuu found an old vending machine that didn’t ask for ID!" Nishinoya supplied helpfully.

"Noya-san!" Tanaka blurted, sounding betrayed, "don’t act like it was all my idea!"

"Tanaka," Daichi said. His voice was measured, which somehow made it more terrifying than when he yelled. "Do you mean to tell me that you supplied your underclassmen with alcohol."

"Noya-san helped pay for it!" Tanaka insisted.

"Look what you’ve done to poor Hinata," Suga cut in. He bent down over Hinata’s prone form and poked him experimentally.

Hinata’s eyes watered. “Am I going to die?” he moaned. His face had an almost green pallor.

"You’re not going to die, you dumbass," Kageyama said. He was lying with his head in Hinata’s lap, and his words were muffled by the fabric of Hinata’s pants. He didn’t seem to be able to move. He lay there like a discarded sock monkey.

"How are we going to get Hinata home?" Asahi asked. "We can’t get him over the mountains like this."

"We couldn’t do that this late even if he wasn’t sick-drunk," Daichi said.

"I told my mom I was staying with Tanaka-san," Hinata said mournfully.

"If my mom wakes up to a bunch of drunk first years I’ll be grounded until my kids are high-schoolers," Nishinoya added.

"How do you plan to get kids if you’re grounded, Noya-san?"  
  
"That’s my point! It’s gonna take a  _real long time_.”

Daichi grabbed Tanaka by the back of his shirt and tugged him to his feet. “I’ll take Hinata and Kageyama home with me,” he said. “No one ever goes in the spare room anyway.”

"I’m fine. I can go home by myself," Kageyama mumbled into Hinata’s lap, despite all evidence to the contrary.

"Let’s just get them down from here first," Suga said.

"What about me?" Nishinoya cut in plaintively. He grabbed the posts on either side of his head with both hands and rocked back and forth to show the totality of his predicament.

"We’ll come back for you in a minute," Daichi said. He reached down and hoisted Kageyama up, pulled Kageyama’s arm around his shoulders. "Asahi, help me with him. Suga, you get Hinata.  _Tanaka_  can start cleaning up the mess.”

"Aw, by myself?" Tanaka whined. Daichi gave him a  _look_ , one that promised a thousand more punishments, and then Tanaka started grabbing beer cans and shoving them into the empty sack they must have brought the beer in. “Yes, captain, of  _course_ , captain!” he said quickly.

"Wait!" Nishinoya wailed the moment they headed for the ladder, "don’t leave me here!"

"Just wait a minute," Suga scolded him. "You got yourself into that mess and you can wait five minutes for us to get you out."

"Nooooo," Nishinoya cried, "Don’t leeaaave meeeee." He started struggling frantically with both feet braced against the railing.   
  
Asahi was terrified he might hurt himself. “I’ll stay with him!” he blurted. Kageyama seemed to be moving under his own power since they had gotten him on his feet, anyway.

"Okay," Daichi said. "See if you can get him out of there while we get the others sorted. Hey, Tanaka!" Tanaka flinched. "Don’t forget the ballcart too."

"Y-yeah…"

As the others moved off the catwalk, Asahi sat down next to Nishinoya in the sudden quiet. “Does it hurt?” he asked, when they were alone.

"No," Nishinoya said. "But I think I’m going to die here."

Asahi chuckled. “You’re not going to die. You got in there somehow and you can get out.”

"No, no, Asahi-san. You don’t have to lie to me," Nishinoya said in a sorrowful tone. "I know the truth. I’m going to grow into a old man in this gym. I’ll haunt Karasuno Gymnasium #2 forever." He gestured dramatically by sweeping a hand out over the floor beneath them. "Do you hear that?" He put a finger to his lips. "Shhh.  _Shhh_.” He craned his neck as best he could to look at Asahi. “You can still hear him.” He cupped his ear. “ _I should have eaten more icecreeeeeaaammmm,_ " he whisper-moaned.

Asahi laughed aloud. “You would be a great ghost, Nishinoya,” he said. “Very scary.”

"I know," Nishinoya agreed with watering eyes. "It’s the only silver lining to this tragedy."

"Here," Asahi said, "maybe the railing is loose." He tested the posts on either side of Nishinoya’s neck, gave them an experimental jiggle. They were stuck fast. "How did you get in there, anyway?"  
  
"You know, I’m glad it’s you, Asahi-san," Nishinoya mumbled. "I feel like anyone else would make fun of me."

Asahi blinked and lowered his hands. Nishinoya looked strangely contemplative as he stared at the floor below.

"Nishinoya," Asahi said after a moment, "I would never make fun of you." He felt unsettled by the sudden shift in atmosphere, and he doubled his attention to the railing. "Maybe I can…" He grabbed one of the posts and pulled. He felt it creak under his grip, felt the wood give slightly.

"Thanks, Asahi-san," Nishinoya said, "this is why I like you best." He sounded strangely sober, with nothing but sincerity in his voice, and it made Asahi panic momentarily. He pulled hard in sudden distress and the wooden post splintered.

Asahi fell backward. He landed hard on his butt and looked at the broken post in his hand in shock. “Oh no,” he said, “I’ve destroyed school property.”

Nishinoya settled back on his haunches. He rubbed his throat gingerly, rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “I’m free,” he said quietly in a bewildered tone. Then, a little louder, “I’m  _free_!” A huge smile spread across his face. “You saved me, Asahi-san!” He dove at Asahi, who jumped with a shout of terror, but Nishinoya just threw his arms around Asahi’s neck and peppered his face with kisses. “Thank you thank you  _thank you_ ,” he said between pecks.

Asahi laughed nervously and put his hands on Nishinoya’s sides to push him away. “Nish-” He froze when Nishinoya kissed the corner of his mouth.

Nishinoya stilled as well. He pulled back slightly, looked at Asahi hard. His eyes pinned Asahi in place. Slowly he leaned forward again, eyes still open, and he kissed Asahi right on the lips.

Asahi’s hands clenched at Nishinoya’s sides. He bodily lifted Nishinoya out of his lap and set him down a good foot away. Nishinoya just stared at him, his face sharp and impenetrable.

"It was nothing," Asahi said stiffly. "Don’t tell Daichi I broke the railing."

Nishinoya nodded slowly.

"Are you guys coming?" Suga’s voice’s echoed up at them. Asahi came back into himself at that moment and felt all the blood in his body rush into his face.

"We should go," he said haltingly.

"Okay," Nishinoya said. He stood up a bit wobbly. "Ohhh, my legs are all cramped up." Suddenly a cloud passed over his face and he looked nervous. Asahi felt apprehension grip his stomach, but Nishinoya just said, "I’m gonna hurl." and then he did.

When everything was cleaned up, Suga led Tanaka and Nishinoya home by the ears, and Daichi took care of Hinata and Kageyama, so Asahi went home alone through the quiet darkness. He snuck back into his house the same way he had left it, careful to skip the creaking third stair on his way up to his bedroom. It was only when he was back in his pajamas, under the safe familiarity of his bedcovers, that he felt brave enough to put his fingers to his lips and allow himself to wonder.

~

Morning practice came too soon, and Asahi dragged his feet all the way to the gym. When he got there, everything was already open and noisy, and he could hear Daichi shouting from outside the door.

Inside, he found Suga on the sidelines. Daichi was ordering the four underclassmen involved in the night’s festivities back and forth across the floor, while the rest of the team looked on in varying levels of disgust, sympathy, or amusement. “They’re doing sprints,” Suga explained. “Tanaka’s thrown up twice already.”  
  
Asahi winced. “That’s too harsh. What about Hinata?”

"I don’t think he had anything inside to start with," Suga laughed.

Only Nishinoya seemed to be holding up to the strain with any success. While the other three lagged and stumbled, he darted from end to end of the court with almost his same level of enthusiasm. Asahi’s gaze lingered on him a shade too long, on the flex of his calves and the peek of skin at his waistband when Nishinoya turned at the end of a sprint. His face was red with exertion, but his eyes were clear and focused straight ahead.

Suga seemed to mistake his silence for worry. “It won’t kill them,” he assured.

"No," Asahi agreed. At end of Nishinoya’s next turn, he happened to look up, and he caught Asahi’s gaze. For a moment the world shrank to a pinprick. The squeak of sneakers and echo of voices receded, and Asahi just looked at Nishinoya, who stared equally back at him.

"Nishinoya!" Daichi shouted, and the moment ended.

Nishinoya looked away and started moving again. Asahi coughed nervously and rubbed his neck. He knew that something had shifted between them, and Nishinoya had noticed it too.

"I guess you can live through a lot," Asahi said. It occurred to him briefly that maybe he was talking about himself.

"You’re so weird sometimes, Asahi," Suga said blandly.

Asahi laughed weakly and held up his hand in apology. He moved off toward the rest of the team to start his warm-up.

When Daichi decided they had been punished enough, he let everyone take a five minute break before practice could begin in earnest. Hinata and Tanaka collapsed like dead things at the side of the court, and Kageyama crawled to sit against the wall. Only Nishinoya stayed on his feet, though he had to brace himself with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Asahi wanted to bring him some water, wished he could make his feet move forward, wished he could say something,  _anything_. But Suga was there first, dispensing water bottles and half-scolding condolences.

Asahi sighed as he stretched. Maybe ‘weird’ was the least of his problems.


	2. Chapter 2

After the previous evening – 'The Incident', as he had taken to calling it in his mind – Asahi wasn't really sure what to do about the situation. When Nishinoya had caught his eye that morning, it felt like the Earth had shifted into an entirely new rotation, and Asahi was still reeling.

He hadn't gotten the opportunity to talk to Nishinoya during their morning practice, and truth be told, Asahi wasn't even sure he _wanted_ to talk to Nishinoya, at least, maybe not right away, and maybe not about what had happened.

Nishinoya had kissed him. _Kissed_ him! On the mouth! Asahi couldn't believe it, but it _had_ happened. Nishinoya's eyes had been sharp, but his lips were dry and warm. Asahi still felt his stomach clench up in knots just thinking about it.

At lunch he poked noncommittally at his food and chewed on his lip instead.

"What's wrong with you?" Suga asked as he stuck his chopsticks into Asahi's lunchbox. "You've been out of it all day." They were sitting together on a landing in the stairwell, next to the same windows where they'd pledged to keep playing together after Inter-high.

"Leave him alone, Suga," Daichi said mildly. "I'm too tired to care." He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, his own empty lunchbox already packed up.

"Daichi, you are so heartless," Suga said around a mouthful of Asahi's lunch. "Our friend is in need."

"Our friend is not in need, and you are way too chipper for four hours of sleep last night," Daichi sighed.

"You're in need, right Asahi?" Suga insisted with his mouth still full, already digging into Asahi's food again. "You're pretty much always in need."

"Have you guys ever kissed anyone?" Asahi blurted out. He immediately regretted saying anything with the looks that Suga and Daichi suddenly pinned on him. Suga's mouth was open, Asahi's own half-masticated broccoli staring back at him. Daichi's eyes sprung open the moment he lifted his head from the wall, and his eyebrows jumped up his forehead, which was a fairly extreme reaction on his end, all things considered.

"Kissed–" Suga started, then he swallowed with effort. "Asahi, you _kissed_ someone?" 

"No, I–"

"Who is she? Do we know her? Is she in your class?"

"No–"

"Daichi, can you believe it?" Suga grabbed his shoulder and jostled him, and Daichi knocked his hand away with a tired groan. "Our baby boy is growing up."

"In what universe is Asahi ourbaby?" Daichi mused.

"Suga, I'm _serious_ ," Asahi cut in desperately. "I have no idea what to do."

"Alright, alright, alright," Suga said. He leaned back and cracked his knuckles. "So you kissed a girl. What's the problem?"

"It wasn't... I didn't–" Asahi fought with how much to say. "I didn't... kiss them."

"She kissed you?"

Asahi bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe it was better to let them assume. "Yes. Sort of. I don't know."

Daichi pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his nostrils. "Asahi, how can you not know if you were kissed?" he said, a shade too patiently.

"It wasn't like that," Asahi said quickly. "It wasn't... I wasn't expecting it." He gestured helplessly. "I don't even know if it meant anything." Asahi paused at that thought. He looked at his half-eaten lunch in his hands. "Maybe it really didn't mean anything," he said quietly.

Suga gave him a pained smile. "Asahi, only you would get depressed because someone kissed you. Do you want it to mean something?"

"I... I don't know," he said. He thought about the way Nishinoya had looked at him, the way he felt with Nishinoya behind him on the court. He thought about how his stomach clenched up when Nishinoya laughed. How he'd caught himself staring a few times. How upset he'd been when they fought. "Maybe," Asahi admitted.

"Then, you should tell her," Suga said. "Why can't you just say that?"

"It's not so simple," Asahi tried to explain. "I don't know how they feel."

"If she kissed you in the first place, then I think her feelings are pretty obvious." Suga elbowed Daichi. "Back me up here, Daichi."

"Dating is not a great idea while we're trying to get to nationals," Daichi said sternly, and Suga groaned in response.

"You're such a romantic, Daichi."

"I'm serious," Daichi said, "We're stretched thin enough as it is between school and volleyball."

"What Daichi is trying to say is 'figure your business out', Asahi," Suga supplied helpfully.

Daichi bristled. "What I'm saying is added distractions are not going to do you any favors," he clarified, and Suga flicked him in the head.

"Maybe you're right though," Asahi said. "Maybe I should just. Let it go for now."

"Aw, don't listen to Mr. I've-Brought-The-Same-Lunch-Since-Third-Grade."

"I brought pork yesterday."

"Don't listen to Mr. I-Think-Pork-Qualifies-As-An-Unconventional-Lunch."

Asahi put his face in his hands. "You guys are not helping," he groaned into his palms.

Suga reached over and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't be so dramatic, Asahi. Your girlfriend won't like that."

"I don't have a girlfriend!" Asahi said in a strangled voice.

"It's better if you don't," Daichi said.

"You're not actually forbidding Asahi date someone, are you?" Suga asked.

"Of course not!" Daichi said genially. He leaned back with a smile and crossed his arms. "I'm just _very strongly_ recommending he doesn't." He pinned Asahi with a sharp glare.

"It's not like that, I promise!" Asahi said as he waved his hands in front of his body defensively.

"Ah, jeez," Suga said. "Don't you like the girl, Asahi?"

"It's not–" Asahi rubbed his forehead. "It's complicated."

"Even more reason to stay out of it," Daichi said, but Suga shoved him aside and leaned in.

"I'm serious, Asahi," Suga said, and he actually seemed to be for the first time in the conversation, with his face sober and his voice pitched low. "If you really like someone, it doesn't have to be any more complicated than that."

Asahi wavered on the spot, fear mixing with a shy inquistiveness in his belly. At length he said softly, "I don't know," and then the chime sounded for the end of lunch.

"Think about what I said, Asahi," Suga told him as he stood up to go.

"Think about what _I_ said, Asahi," Daichi echoed.

Asahi gulped and nodded. He watched Daichi stand as well. The two of them grabbed their lunchboxes and turned to go.

"Asahi," Suga said patiently. "Aren't you coming?"

"Oh!" Asahi blurted. "Right!" He shoveled as much food as he could into his mouth without choking and chewed until his jaw ached, then packed up the rest.

He spent the rest of the day in a daze. Asahi was fairly certain he had failed the pop-quiz in math, but couldn't seem to muster the energy to care about it. He was tired but not sleepy – exhausted but on edge – and it made him feel frayed about the corners.

Should he just try to forget about it? He wasn't sure. He couldn't deny Daichi had a point about distractions; between practice and school Asahi had barely enough time to himself to do much of anything else.

But Suga'd been right, too, hadn't he? And the truth was pretty simple, after all. When it came down to it, the truth was that Asahi had actually thought about kissing Nishinoya a little bit before the previous night, and quite a bit since.

Asahi touched his lips with his fingers. Had it been a real kiss, did it count?

"Azumane!" a voice whispered beside him, and he jumped.

"N-nothing!" Asahi whispered back.

"What?" his classmate asked. He pinned Asahi with a weird look. "Nevermind. Can I borrow a pencil?"

"Oh. Sure." Asahi handed one over and tried to ignore the other boy's stare as he returned to his work.

~

After classes and clean-up, Asahi headed toward the gym with his stomach tumbling, and not just from missing out on half his lunch. It wasn't that he was scared to see Nishinoya – not a _lot_ , at least – but Asahi was nervous that he'd conflated the whole thing into something much bigger than it actually was. Had Nishinoya kissed him just because he'd been drunk? Because he'd been relieved to be free from the railing and Asahi had been there? Or was it something else – something more.

What Asahi really wanted was the latter.

He found Nishinoya outside the gym, leaning against the outside of the walkway. He looked a bit worse for wear, with dark smudges under his eyes and a haggard droop to his shoulders. Even his hair seemed to be flagging a little. It made something twinge behind Asahi's sternum and eased his anxiety. Nishinoya didn't seem quite so intimidating when he looked about ready to fall over.

Asahi stepped over. Nishinoya caught sight of him as he approached, and for a moment his face twisted into such a picture of miserable apprehension that it stopped Asahi in place. Then the expression was gone, and Nishinoya looked remarkably neutral.

It was then that Asahi realized that Nishinoya was just as nervous as he was. Perhaps even moreso. A sensation not unlike relief started creeping its way into his body, like a cool tingle from his shoulders down to his fingers. Could it be that the kiss had meant something to Nishinoya, too?

Asahi stepped up beside him and leaned against the wall of the walkway with his arms crossed behind him. "Hey," he said. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, you know." Nishinoya shrugged. "Not too bad. I feel like I've been run over by a truck."

Asahi laughed in surprise. "So not too bad, then?" he said.

Nishinoya looked briefly surprised at Asahi's good mood. Then he grinned, somewhat bashfully. "Naw," he agreed. He sighed and rubbed his fingers over the front of his teeth. "Everything hurts. My eyes hurt. My _teeth_ hurt. What the hell was I thinking?"

" _Were_ you thinking?" Asahi asked him.

"I have no idea," Nishinoya returned. "Ask me when my brain is capable of higher order functions again."

"Was it –" Asahi ducked his head, hid his smile behind his hand. "Was it capable of higher order functions before last night?"

Nishinoya's mouth dropped open. "Asahi-san, did you – did you just _sass_ me?"

Asahi breathed hard through his nose to keep from laughing. "You know I'd never do anything like that, Nishinoya," he said innocently.

"I don't believe it," Nishinoya continued in mock anguish, "Your poor underclassman, ill and weak–"

"Maybe a little hungover," Asahi cut in.

" _Ill_ and _weak_ ," Nishinoya reiterated. "Who knows if I'll even live through the day? And all I encounter is abuse." He was smiling as he said it.

"Well, I think you're probably a level or two higher than mortal injury," Asahi said. He couldn't seem to stop grinning himself.

Nishinoya looked up at him. "Maybe you're right," he conceded. The look on his face, Asahi was sure he would still remember a hundred years later. Nishinoya had never been the sort of person who was very good at hiding his emotions, and there was now a beautiful guarded sort of hopefulness to his expression – a shyness tugging at the corner of his mouth, a modest glimmer in his eye. It felt like a suckerpunch in Asahi's gut, an overwhelming burst of warmth under his solar plexus. He wondered how he'd missed it before; he wondered how long it had been there.

Asahi rubbed his neck and grinned back. He wasn't sure what else to do about it at the moment, but he hoped some of his own cautious affection was coming through.

Maybe Nishinoya noticed, or maybe he simply responded to the fact that Asahi hadn't run away yet – either way, his smile grew more confident, his eyes brighter.

"Say, Asahi-san–" he started, but then Suga suddenly appeared next to Nishinoya's elbow, and Nishinoya clapped his mouth shut.

Asahi never had a dark thought toward Suga until that moment. _Go away_ , he thought fiercely, then felt incredibly guilty in the wake of that reaction. "Hey Suga," he said quickly.

Suga looped an arm around Nishinoya's shoulders. Easy, Asahi thought. How could he make it look so easy?

"Hey, Nishinoya, what's he telling you?" Suga said slyly. "He's been keeping all these secrets lately."

An unsettled feeling grew in Asahi's stomach, squeezing out the buoyancy of the previous moments.

"Secrets, Asahi-san?" Nishinoya echoed. "What sort of secrets?"

"It's nothing," Asahi said firmly. He tried to look as hard as he could at Suga, in the hopes that maybe, _maybe_ , it would come across how badly he didn't want this conversation to happen.

"He's got this whole clandestine life going on," Suga continued, and Nishinoya's eyes widened.

Nishinoya grinned in shocked delight. "A _secret_ life! You're cooler than I thought, Asahi-san." 

Asahi flushed hotly, and not in the pleasant way of before. "Suga," he said, voice low in his throat. _Don't_ , he thought. _Please._

"Yeah," Suga laughed. "He's even got this secret girlfriend he's been hiding from everyone!" He winked and held up his pinky finger. "He was telling Daichi and I all about it today."

Nishinoya stared at the raised digit. He wasn't smiling anymore. He turned his face slowly and looked at Asahi again. Then, very quickly, Asahi saw the guarded optimism bleed out of his expression.

"Excuse me," Nishinoya said sharply, and he shrugged out from under Suga's arm and stalked away.

Suga blinked at his retreating back, hand still raised. After a moment, he turned back to Asahi. "Was it something I said?" he asked.

"It's fine," Asahi said. His chest began to hurt. "It's nothing."

~

There was a stilted air to the rest of practice. Tanaka had gone home with 'the flu'. When Hinata jumped about half as high as usual and faceplanted directly into the net, Ukai put his hands on his hips and asked, "What is _with_ everyone today?", which made Daichi cough awkwardly into his hand and steer his attention elsewhere.

Asahi tried to catch Nishinoya aside again, but it felt like butting up against a brick wall. Either Nishinoya acted as though he didn't hear – or worse, he simply looked at Asahi for a moment, then turned away without responding.

It was almost enough to make him angry, Asahi couldn't help thinking as he practiced his serve. After all, he hadn't been the one to start anything – that was all on Nishinoya. He brought his arm down with uncontrolled force and the ball went sideways. It narrowly missed hitting Ennoshita in the head before it slammed hard into the wall. Asahi felt the host of concerned eyes turn on him, but he just stared at the floor and didn't say anything.

"Hey," Suga said aside to him as Asahi walked across the court to get a new ball, "are you okay?"

Asahi felt a sharp burst of irritation, then it dissipated. It wasn't really Suga's fault, if he was being honest. He could've told the truth, after all. "I'm fine," Asahi said, and he brushed off Suga's hand on his elbow. "I'm tired." To Suga's credit he seemed to take the hint, though Asahi felt Suga's eyes against his back for a good while after.

After practice, he stalled as much as possible. He petered around the supply closet, hung awkwardly off to the side, all the while glancing at Nishinoya from the corner of his eye, trying to find the best moment to catch him between clean-up and when they'd all head home. Asahi though if he timed it just right, maybe he might be able to get Nishinoya on his own – maybe he could find the words to smooth it out – to _explain_.

Nishinoya was talking with Ennoshita near the door, and it looked as though the conversation was wrapping up. Asahi fisted his hands at his sides and steeled his resolve – all he'd need was a minute, surely he'd be able to –

"Asahi." It was Daichi.

Asahi wanted groan out loud in frustration, but he swallowed the sound. "Hey, Daichi," he said stiffly. "What's up?"

Daichi looked a little concerned. "About what I said earlier."

"No–" Asahi waved his hand quickly. "Don't worry about it."

"No," Daichi continued, "I just wanted to say – look, I know you know how important everything else is. I know you wouldn't jeopardize the team over –"

"Daichi," Asahi said. "I know." He put a hand on Daichi's shoulder. "Don't worry about it, really."

Daichi turned his head slightly, peered at Asahi in sudden suspicion. "That's not why you're upset?"

"I'm not upset," Asahi insisted.

"Asahi."

Asahi sighed and looked aside, self-conscious under Daichi's harsh gaze. "It's... it's complicated."

Daichi gave him an exasperated smile. "Asahi, most things don't really have to be."

"That's easy for you to say, you–" Asahi looked up at that moment and realized Nishinoya had gone. "I gotta go!" he said abruptly, then took toward the door.

"Asahi!" Daichi called behind him, but Asahi just waved over his shoulder and shouted an apology.

He leaned as far as he could out the open door, looked in both directions, but Nishinoya was nowhere in sight. He slipped out of his gym shoes as quickly as he could and went down onto the paved walkway in only his socks, shoes in hand. No sign of the other boy. Asahi fumbled, tried to wedge his shoes on one at a time while he hopped in place – finally managed to get them shoved onto his feet and took off around the side of the gym.

Nishinoya was already gone. Asahi didn't see him anywhere. It was too late. He'd missed his chance.

He slowly deflated. Asahi crouched to readjust the tongue of his left shoe. In his haste to shove them on his feet, it had gotten wedged uncomfortably against the side of his foot. The sense of defeat was absolutely crushing. He almost felt like crying.

As he came back around the corner of the gym, Asahi noticed Daichi standing in the doorway. He looked even more suspicious than earlier. "Everything okay?"

"No," Asahi admitted.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Asahi repeated.

Daichi stared at him hard for a few moments. "Are you heading out? I'll walk with you."

Asahi thumbed over his shoulder toward the clubroom. "Still need to get my stuff," he said. After a beat he added, "And I'd like to be alone."

"Okay," Daichi said. He changed his shoes, then stood and hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Okay."

As Daichi passed him, Asahi felt a desperate clench in his throat. "Daichi," he said without turning.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Daichi's hand was firm for a moment on his shoulder, then it was gone. Asahi stood in the same spot next to the door, hands fisted at his sides, until the sound of Daichi's footsteps retreated. Then he sighed wearily and headed for the stairs of the club building.

As he went up the steps, he began to piece together his options – could he get Nishinoya's phone number from someone without being suspicious about it? Maybe Suga had it? Probably Daichi did but – Asahi'd already said he didn't want to talk about it, and that was the truth – and maybe it would raise too many questions if he asked for the number now.

He could also get there as early as possible in the morning. Nishinoya was almost never late for morning practice, usually one of the first to arrive – surely Asahi to could get him aside then, could try to explain, could pray Nishinoya would listen – if he could just _apologize_ –

Asahi frowned at the top of the stairs. What was he apologizing for again? He couldn't shake the feeling that he had done something wrong, but. _Had_ he? Had he really?

Asahi opened the door to the clubroom and stepped inside.

"Asahi-san."

Asahi lifted his eyes from the mats in disbelief. Nishinoya sat cross-legged in a chair on the far side of the room. His arms were crossed in front of his chest. He looked incredibly stern.

"Nishi–" Asahi's tongue was thick in his mouth and the name died in his throat. He swallowed hard. "Nishinoya. I thought..." Asahi gripped the front of his shirt nervously in both hands. "I thought you'd gone."

Nishinoya grimaced. "I was waiting for you," he said. Asahi abruptly realized that Nishinoya wasn't angry – he was nervous.

"For me?" Asahi squeaked. He winced and cleared his throat.

Nishinoya turned his gaze down to the floor. "I..." he faltered. He glared at the mats. One of his knees was bouncing up and down as he sat in place. Nishinoya groaned loudly and rubbed his face hard with both hands. "I'm – Look, I'm _sorry_ , okay!" he blurted finally.

Asahi felt his shoulders lift in astonishment. "You're..." He gripped his shirt tighter. "But... I thought..." His eyes darted around the room. "I thought you were mad at me."

"Why would I–" Nishinoya made a frustrated noise. "I can't believe you're not mad at _me_."

Asahi laughed in relief. "No – I mean, no. Why would I be?"

Nishinoya blinked at him for a moment. Then his face almost... crumpled. There was no other word for it. One minute he looked as though he had been electrified, then the next he collapsed on himself. "Oh," Nishinoya said quietly. He gave Asahi a wobbly smile that made Asahi's chest feel tight. "Good. I'm glad."

Asahi bit his lip. Nishinoya looked so _young_ , so small suddenly. Not like himself at all.

"I just," Nishinoya continued, "I didn't know, okay? I wouldn't have done it if I knew."

Asahi was at a loss. "If you knew...?"

"About your girlfriend."

Asahi flinched at the word. "Oh," he said. He wasn't sure where to start, how to explain. He wanted to go back to the moment they'd had before that word had entered their conversation, when it was just him and Nishinoya and a promising shyness between them. "About that–" Asahi started.

Nishinoya held up a hand. "No, don't," he said. "You don't have to explain." He laughed nervously, looked at the floor again. "I mean, I'm the dummy here. I hope I didn't mess anything up for you."

"Nishinoya," Asahi said, desperation leaking in around his voice.

"I was drunk, I was being stupid," Nishinoya continued.

"Don't," Asahi said.

"It didn't even mean anything, right?" Nishinoya said. "It was just a dumb kiss."

Asahi's hands tightened on his shirt. He fought to keep his face as even as he could, to not look like he felt as though he had been slapped. "Was it?" he said softly.

"Of course," Nishinoya said brightly. He stood up. "Just a dumb kiss. Nothing to worry about. Don't even think about it anymore!" He crossed the room to where Asahi stood in front of the door. He clapped Asahi genially on the arm. "We can just pretend it never happened, right?"

Asahi didn't trust his voice to speak. He just nodded.

"Great," Nishinoya said. "I don't want it to be awkward between us or anything."

"Me either," Asahi agreed quietly.

"Okay, well," Nishinoya cleared his throat. "I should go I think. Sorry for being such a dumbass."

"No..." Asahi said.

"I'll see you tomorrow, though! I'll feel better then."

"Yeah," Asahi agreed.

Nishinoya's hand was still against his upper arm. Nishinoya seemed to notice this at the same instant that Asahi did, and he dropped it with a nervous chuckle. There was a beat of silence between them.

"Well, bye then," Nishinoya said. He side-stepped around Asahi, opened the door, and was gone.

Asahi stood in place for a long moment. He'd been so hopeful earlier. But maybe he'd misinterpreted the whole stupid thing. He dressed slowly and folded his gymclothes, all the while replaying the conversation in his head, trying to find where it had steered wrong.

Nishinoya'd been nervous but – well, he was worried about being misunderstood, right? That seemed to make sense. Asahi thought back to the morning, the glance they'd shared in the gym. Had he imagined it?

The door creaked and opened. Asahi whipped around – was it Nishinoya coming back?

Suga stood in the doorway, his bag in one hand and shoes in the other.

Asahi felt something inside him crumple. It must have shown on his face because Suga looked at him in alarm.

"What?" Suga asked. "Did you lose your pants again?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts 3 and 4 coming in the next few days! Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

"What?" Suga asked. "Did you lose your pants again?"

"Oh," Asahi said. "Hey. No." He turned back to packing up his bag.

"Don't look so excited," Suga returned. "What are you still doing around?"

"Nothing," Asahi mumbled. "Just heading out."

"I saw Nishinoya leave."

Asahi's hands stilled.

"He looked upset," Suga continued. "Did you guys fight again?"

"Suga, since when are you so concerned with my personal life?" Asahi said evenly.

"Asahi, come on," Suga said, and Asahi looked at him. His face was patient but insistent. _You can talk to me_ , his expression said. _You'd_ better _talk to me_ , it clarified.

"Nishinoya was fine," Asahi said. "We didn't fight."

Suga's mouth creased. "I don't know if _fine_ is the proper word. He looked pretty not-fine to me."

"Well, I don't know then!" Asahi snapped, his voice rising to a shout. "I don't seem to understand anything about anyone anymore!" He tugged the zipper of his bag so hard it was a wonder it didn't snap off in his hand. "Could you for one moment, just _one moment,_ give me a break here!" The silence that followed his exclamation seemed to echo off the walls of the clubroom.

"Asahi," Suga said quietly.

Asahi's hands were shaking. He closed them into fists.

Suga spoke again. "It was Nishinoya who kissed you, wasn't it?"

Asahi found that he couldn't say anything. He stared at the floor as though he could bore a hole through it.

Suga made a thoughtful noise. "Well. I think I really put my foot in it, didn't I?"

"Yeah," Asahi said, "you kind of did." He closed his eyes, took in a breath, and held it for a count of five. He rolled his shoulders, consciously releasing the tension that had raised them nearly to his ears. "It doesn't matter, though," he said at length. He was relieved at how much calmer his voice sounded.

"Asahi," Suga said again.

"No, really," Asahi said. He stood up slowly and picked up his bag. "He said it didn't mean anything, and I think that's probably for the best."

"...did it mean something for you?"

"What does it _matter_ , Suga!" Asahi turned toward the door to leave, prayed Suga would step out of his way.

"It matters." There was something to Suga's voice, a tone that made him pause. Asahi raised his eyes to look Suga in the face.

They'd been friends since the first day of first year when they'd both joined the volleyball team. Suga had always been the calming balance between Asahi's anxiety and Daichi's intensity – a sly, terrifying, prank-laden sort of calmness, but one that lanced them both in turn. Still, there were times that the laughter left Suga's face, and what remained behind was as hard as polished marble.

He had that look to him now. "Asahi," he said carefully, "It matters."

Asahi fiddled with the strap of his bag. "I think it did," he said softly. "Mean something. For me." He grimaced. "Suga, what am I gonna do?"

Suga gave him an exasperated chuckle. " _Do_? Asahi, I would think that's obvious." When Asahi just stared at him in silent confusion, Suga put his hand to his mouth and made a grotesque sucking noise.

"SUGA!" Asahi yelped.

Suga laughed out loud. The sound of it carried throughout the room. "You're so easy, Asahi," he snorted.

"Suga, please," Asahi said weakly. "It's not funny. I'm really confused."

"Why?" Suga said. He was still smiling. "You always make everything so much more difficult that it needs to be! If you care about him then – what more do you need to think about?"

"Oh, I don't know, what about the fact that we're both _boys_!"

"Not a problem," Suga said. "There are videos about that."

Asahi's face burned, but he did his best to ignore the comment and pressed on. "Not to mention that he said himself that it didn't mean anything. He was drunk! It wasn't even a real _kiss_." His voice cracked on the word. He covered his face with both hands in humiliation. "And I walked around all day thinking that–" Asahi groaned. "That maybe he actually liked me."

"Asahi, you're so ridiculous." Suga said blandly.

He dropped his hands. "That makes me feel loads better, thanks Suga."

Suga put his hands on his hips. "I'm not trying to make you feel better," he clarified. "I'm trying to make you stop being such a loser."

"You're doing a great job."

"Asahi!" Suga laughed. "Asahi. Listen."

Asahi closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm listening."

"The face I just saw," Suga said, "was not the face of someone who was happy about what had happened in this room."

"He was embarrassed about it," Asahi explained.

"No," Suga said. "You know Nishinoya. He doesn't embarrass that easily. So what happened? Why was he upset when he left?"

"He didn't seem upset to me," Asahi said. He thought about it. "He was nervous to talk to me, then told me to forget about the kiss, then he left. That's it!"

"That's it?" Suga peered at him hard. "You can't remember anything else."

"He did..." Asahi bit his lip. "He did say he hoped he didn't mess things up with me and my girlfriend." He glared at Suga. "You know, that one that _I_ _don't have_."

"Okay, okay," Suga said. He held up his hands defensively. "That one was my bad."

"That was where this whole mess started," Asahi said, "I wish I had never said anything to you at all."

"Come on, now," Suga said. "You'd be hopeless without me." He brought his hands down. "Asahi, it seems pretty obvious to me what happened."

"Well, it's not obvious to _me_."

"He got upset when I mentioned your girlfriend, right?" Asahi must have given him a look, because Suga raised his hands again and smiled apologetically, "I know, I know, your _nonexistant_ girlfriend."

"He was embarrassed," Asahi said again.

"Asahi, you idiot, he was upset because he thought he'd been rejected."

Asahi stopped. He blinked. He thought back over the moment they'd had before practice, the pleasant bashfulness of their interaction. The expression on Nishinoya's face. "No," he said softly, "but–"

"And when he left, he told you to forget about everything because he's –" Suga grimaced in frustration, "because he's almost as big an idiot as you. _Almost_."

Asahi opened his mouth wordlessly. He gripped at the strap of his bag, held it so tightly he felt the stitching cutting into his fingers. "What do I do," he whispered, "what do I _say_?"

"Asahi." Suga put his palm against his forehead and winced in exasperation. "You just tell him the truth."

"But–"

"Don't overthink it! You like him, right? Just tell him that!"

"I–"

"You ass, why are you still talking to me!" Suga stepped forward and grabbed him, pulled him toward the door. "If you run you can catch him – don't think, just go!"

"Suga, I–"

"Asahi!" Suga's eyes flashed dangerously. "If you don't go right now I'm going to throw you down the stairs!"

Asahi gulped, hitched his bag up. "Okay, okay!" His heart pounded. His hands were sweating. But he felt – _excited_.

Halfway down the stairs he stopped, then bounded back up. "Thank you!" he shouted.

"Go, you asshole!" Suga shouted back. And Asahi went.

~

Asahi ran as fast as he could manage, though he wasn't wearing the proper shoes and had changed back into his school uniform. Between the hard pound of his shoes on the pavement and the awkward slap of his bag against his side, it was easy to forget why he was supposed to be afraid. He knew there would be blisters on his feet after – he took a sharp turn and felt the skin on side of his foot scream in protest – but the little bit of pain was good, kept him focused.

Nishinoya had said it the night before, hadn't he? That he liked Asahi best. Asahi wanted to smack himself in the forehead. Maybe he'd been drunk, but – Asahi _hadn't_ imagined that moment in the gym that morning, hadn't imagined the smile that Nishinoya had trained on him in the afternoon, bright and open and _ready_.

He realized they'd been dancing around it a long time – before Nishinoya had starting practicing his toss, before Inter-high and the Dateko match, since before their fight, even. Maybe since the day they'd met.

How far could Nishinoya have gotten? Asahi tried to think how long he'd stood in the clubroom after Nishinoya had left, how long he'd talked to Suga. The train station was less than a mile from the school, and Nishinoya had a quick gait despite his short legs. What if the train had come already? Asahi wished he had looked at a clock before he left, that he'd remembered to put on his watch that morning. There was nothing for it now. He'd have to keep going and hope.

He made it all the way to the station without any sign of Nishinoya. Asahi almost hurdled the barrier in his desperation. God, had the train come already? The platform seemed pretty empty, but it was between the student and evening rushes, and so maybe – he stopped for a moment, chest screaming, a stitch in his side, and put his hands on his knees. He was sweating underneath his uniform; he could feel his shirt sticking to his back under his vest.

_God_ , what if he'd run the whole way there for nothing? Asahi looked at the floor of the platform as he hiccuped for air. 

"No, I don't want to come over," a familiar voice wafted toward him. "No. No, it's fine. Look, man, I don't want you to barf on me again."

Asahi swallowed. He straightened up.

"I said I'm fine, didn't I? I'm fine. Can we stop talking about it, please?"

There was a divider to a few meters to Asahi's left, which he knew partially hid a bench from his line of sight. From behind the divider Asahi could see a short pair of black-clad legs sticking out into the walkway, familiar red sneakers on a pair of absently waggling feet.

Asahi was still breathing hard, barely daring to hope. He stood for a moment and stared at that pair of legs.

"Yeah, I'll come over on Saturday," Nishinoya continued.

Asahi swallowed again. He reached up and smoothed back the hair that had fallen into his face during his run. He still felt short of breath. His heart thundered in his chest. Slowly he crossed over toward the divider and the bench beyond.

"Ryuu, come on, I don't want to talk about it anymore, okay? I fucked it up."

There was such a quiet sadness to his tone, so unlike any that Asahi had ever heard from him. It broke Asahi's heart that he had been the cause.

He stepped around the divider.

Nishinoya slouched so far down in the bench that his butt was nearly off it, his legs out straight. He looked even more haggard than he had at practice. He had his phone to his ear, and when Asahi stepped into his line of sight he pulled it away from his face in shock. "Asahi-san...?" Nishinoya said.

"I need–" Asahi started. He swallowed a gasp and tried to get his breathing back under control. "I want to talk to you."

Nishinoya slowly put his phone back to his ear, all the while staring at Asahi. "I'll call you back," he said. He sat up with a scowl. "I said, I'll call you back!" he shouted, and he clapped the phone shut.

"...everything okay?" Asahi said meekly.

"You look terrible," Nishinoya said. "Did you run here?"

Asahi nodded. He crossed his arm nervously across his torso and clutched his opposite elbow. "I really wanted to talk to you."

"I keep telling you that you need to run more," Nishinoya continued. "I'll go with you if you want."

"Nishinoya, can't we go–" he gestured vaguely, "–somewhere more..."

Nishinoya's expression was closed. Asahi had a hard time getting a read on him at all. "Okay," he said. "There's a shop down the road a bit."

"No, I mean," Asahi shrugged helplessly. "Private, you know?"

Nishinoya's eyebrows came down over his eyes into an apprehensive expression. "...okay," he said again. He stood up, picked up his bag. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know, I–" Asahi wracked his brain. "There's a little park nearby, right? How about there?" There were lots of trees, a small path. They could get away from eyes. Maybe he'd be brave enough to say it aloud if it were just the two of them. Nishinoya shrugged and nodded.

They walked together in silence. Asahi kept glancing aside and down, trying to get a feel for Nishinoya's mood. There was a hard set to his brow, a downturn at his mouth. His narrow shoulders were stiff. Asahi looked forward again, anxiety making a pit in his stomach. He hoped Suga was right.

When they got to the park, Nishinoya put his hands on his hips. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Let's walk this way," Asahi suggested. He pointed toward the little path that lead into a heavy patch of trees.

"Let's just talk here," Nishinoya insisted. He still had that look to him, like flint set to spark.

Asahi chewed on his lip. "Nishinoya, I just want to take a little walk with you, is that okay?"

Nishinoya's tension bubbled over. "I already said I'm sorry, alright!" he exploded. "I said I'm sorry and I meant it, and I don't know what else to say to make it right!"

"Nishinoya, you don't–"

"Asahi-san, I don't know what you want from me!" Nishinoya fisted his hands at his sides. His face looked wretched – exhausted and devastated. "I don't know if – if you wanna yell at me or if you wanna hit me or what, but can't you just do it here and get it over with? Can't you just let me sulk away and pretend like this is okay!"

"Nishi–"

"God!" Nishinoya cried. He buried his hands in his hair and tugged. "It's bad enough that I'm hungover but I can't _deal_ with this right now!"

"Wait–"

"Of course it meant something to me, but I can't take it back now, can I?" Nishinoya shouted. "I'm trying to be the bigger man here and you're making it – _so difficult_!"

Asahi looked around desperately – there were a few other people in the park, someone feeding birds, someone walking a dog – no one seemed interested in what was happening, but Asahi couldn't take any chances. He grabbed Nishinoya's hand before he could launch into another tirade and dragged him toward the treeline, out of sight from the main park.

"Let me _go_!" Nishinoya clamored, but Asahi held on until they'd cleared the first patch of trees and he had space to breath.

"Nishinoya, listen."

"God, just hit me if you wanna hit me, just get it over with," Nishinoya said plaintively.

Asahi put his hands Nishinoya's shoulders. Nishinoya flinched under the touch and closed his eyes. "Nishinoya," he said softly, "I'm not going to hit you. I would never ever hit you."

Nishinoya opened his eyes, looked up at him. "No?"

"Why would I hit you?" Asahi asked. "How could you possibly think I would ever hit you?"

"I don't know," Nishinoya admitted. "I guess, I thought. Since I kissed you, and I'm a boy. I don't know," he repeated. "You looked kinda scary, too."

"Scary?"

"Y'know, real serious. I thought you had decided to get mad at me after all."

"I'm not mad," Asahi said. "I'm." Terrified. _Exhilarated._ "Nervous."

"Why?" The tension in Nishinoya's expression had eased now that the fear had left him. His face was upturned toward Asahi's, his mouth pursed in confusion.

Asahi remembered how it had felt on his own the night before. Dry and warm. Insistent and inquisitive. "Nishinoya, I..."

_Just tell him the truth!_ Suga's voice echoed in his head.

"The truth," he said. "The truth is."

_I don't have a girlfriend, Nishinoya_ , he thought.  _You're the one that I like, Nishinoya_ , he thought. The statements clamored together in his head, tangling around each other until – he tightened his grip on Nishinoya's shoulders, shook him slightly, and shouted, "You're the girlfriend, Nishinoya!"

" _What_?"

Asahi felt terror leap into his throat. Torn by embarrassment and adrenaline, at a loss for how else to explain himself, he did the first thing that came to mind. He dragged Nishinoya forward and kissed him.

Or tried to, at least. He missed Nishinoya's mouth a bit, instead planted his lips slightly too far to the side. Their noses bumped together awkwardly, and neither closed their eyes; altogether, it was not as Asahi had imagined this going at all.

Nishinoya's hands came up, and he pushed Asahi away roughly, one hand against his face and the other slapping at his shoulder. Asahi released him, backed away a step, while Nishinoya stared at him in wordless, furious shock.

"What are you _doing_?" Nishinoya hissed.

Asahi felt his stomach sink like a rock. Had he been wrong? "I...I..."

"Is this some kinda game to you?" Nishinoya demanded. "What, you just trying to mess with me here? I never thought you were that kinda guy, Asahi!"

"No," Asahi said. "No, I just." God, it wasn't like he could make _more_ of an ass of himself, was it? "I like you, Nishinoya, I like you a lot! I just–"

Nishinoya looked like he was about to run. Asahi reached for him again, and Nishinoya stepped out of his grasp. "Wait," Asahi said. "Please don't go. Let me– let me explain."

"I think that would be good," Nishinoya said tightly.

Asahi nodded. He took a breath and tried to collect himself. "There's no girlfriend," he started. "Suga just–" Asahi winced. "After last night, when you... I didn't know what to think. I was confused. So I talked to Suga and Daichi, and–"

"Aw man, they know?" Nishinoya said.

"No!" Asahi insisted. "I mean, yes. Suga does. Now. But he didn't then. I didn't say it was you and he just– he kind of assumed I was talking about a girl and I." Asahi clutched his hands together and looked at the ground. "I didn't correct him."

"Oh," Nishinoya said. "The secret girlfriend."

"Exactly!" Asahi said. "Exactly." He lapsed into silence. A soft breeze rustled through the trees around them and sent a few leaves falling into the walking path. It was lined with dry pine needles, and they crunched underfoot when Asahi shifted uncomfortably.

Nishinoya spoke again after a moment. "So there's no girlfriend."

Asahi shook his head. "No."

"There was never a girlfriend."

"No."

Nishinoya seemed to think about this a little more. "And. You didn't mind that I kissed you?"

" _Mind_ ," Asahi echoed. "I didn't mind. Nishinoya, I." He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm glad you did. I'm sorry I mucked this one up."

"Hm," Nishinoya agreed. "You didn't kiss back though. Last night."

Asahi held his hands out. "I mean, you were drunk. And I..." He laughed nervously. "I was kind of startled."

"I guess we both have shitty timing, huh?" Nishinoya said. His voice had lightened, and when Asahi dared to look him in the face, he saw that Nishinoya was grinning a little.

He felt himself grin back meekly. "Yeah..." he agreed.

"Well, we can work on it," Nishinoya said.

"We can?"

"Definitely!" The grin on Nishinoya's face widened. "After all, what are secret girlfriends for if not to help you learn to kiss better?"

"God," Asahi groaned. He covered his face with his hands. "I'm so _sorry_ ."

Nishinoya laughed. "It's kinda funny, isn't it? I mean, this could only happen to you, Asahi-san."

Asahi felt a hand on his forearm, and he jumped a little at the touch. He lowered his hands and saw that Nishinoya had stepped closer to him.

"You wanted to get me all alone, huh?" Nishinoya said. "How sinister."

"Nishinoya," Asahi said weakly.

Nishinoya grabbed his hand. He reached forward and touched Asahi's shoulder. "Do you want to try again?"

"Try?"

"Kissing, Asahi-san."

Asahi's breath left him all at once. "O-okay," he said.

Nishinoya pulled down on his shoulder, and Asahi bent obediantly. Nishinoya's mouth was warm as it had been the night before, but there was a different feel to it. Nishinoya was breathing through his nose, and the air coasted over Asahi's cheek in a quiet sort of intimacy. Nishinoya's hand left his shoulder to cup the back of his neck, and that felt good too. Asahi reached his empty hand down to Nishinoya's side and dug his fingers into Nishinoya's t-shirt.

They parted a moment later, and when Asahi opened his eyes, he saw that Nishinoya was flushed, his eyes half-lidded.

"Hm," Nishinoya said breathlessly. "That was pretty good."

"Was it?" Asahi asked. "Maybe we should try again."

"I think that's a good idea," Nishinoya agreed.

Asahi pulled him closer, slid his arms around Nishinoya's back. He was so small and perfect; it was so easy for Asahi to draw him in. Nishinoya's arms went up around his neck, and Asahi kissed him again. Nishinoya's mouth fell open this time, and Asahi pressed his tongue forward tentatively. Nishinoya responded with a soft sigh that sank right into Asahi's stomach. He tightened his arms, and Nishinoya tugged on his hair in return.

There was a crunch of leaves and the sound of voices not too far away, and they came apart again. Asahi took a step back. Nishinoya was breathing hard, his eyes unfocused. Asahi felt much the same.

"A good first lesson, I think," Nishinoya said. "But then, I've always been a quick study."

"Except at school," Asahi returned, and Nishinoya grinned at him.

"More sass," he said, "I don't believe this. You're putting me through so much shit today."

"Sorry," Asahi said, but he couldn't help but smile. "Hey, Nishinoya."

"Hey, what."

" _Are_ you my secret girlfriend?"

Nishinoya punched him in the arm. Asahi yelped and laughed at the same time. He was deliriously happy. The world seemed small and soft and perfect in their little pocket of woods, brown leaves beneath their feet and the slightest breath of wind between them. Asahi reached forward with both hands to cup Nishinoya's face and kissed him a fourth time – or was it the fifth? Nishinoya's hands rested lightly on his wrists, fingers curled around the delicate skin on the inside, against his pulse point.

The sound of voices came again, slightly closer, and Asahi pulled back relunctantly, though his hands lingered against Nishinoya's head. He used one thumb to brush over Nishinoya's cheekbone, the other he touched against Nishinoya's lower lip, then his chin.

"Asahi-san," Nishinoya murmured, his voice pitched low.

Asahi exhaled slowly. "I like you best too," he said.

Nishinoya laughed. "What?"

"Last night, you said that, you liked me best." He felt himself blushing, but Nishinoya's cheeks were red as well. "Well, I like you best too."

Nishinoya laughed again, then reached up and flicked him lightly on the forehead. "Are you always gonna say such embarrassing things?"

"Probably," Asahi admitted. "Sorry."

"Hm," Nishinoya mused. When Asahi pulled away his hand lingered around Asahi's wrist. He slid his hand down into Asahi's and laced their fingers together. "I've probably missed quite a few trains."

"Come home with me," Asahi suggested. He blinked at himself, surprised at his own boldness.

Nishinoya raised his eyebrows.

"Not like that!" Asahi corrected quickly. "I mean, my mom is home, so. I don't know. But, maybe. Just for dinner, you know?"

Nishinoya's eyebrows went higher. "You want me to meet your mom?"

"No!" Asahi blurted. "I mean, yes!" he corrected. "I mean, not like that. At least, not today. But maybe. Eventually. Like that." He grimaced at himself. The bubble of giddiness inside him was starting to deflate.

"So... should I come over or not?"

Asahi covered his face with his free hand, and squeezed Nishinoya's in his other one. "Yes. Come over. I just mean there's no pressure or anything. Just if you want to."

"You know, Asahi-san," Nishinoya said thoughtfully. Asahi looked at him. "We really have to work on your communication skills." His face was serious, but his eyes glinted gleefully.

"At least I didn't have to drink anything," Asahi said.

"You say that like you would've done something if I hadn't kissed you last night," Nishinoya said sternly.

"You're probably right," Asahi conceded. He looked down at Nishinoya, who was looking back at him with just the right sort of familiar intensity. He wasn't quite smiling, but it was comforting to Asahi all the same. "Do you want to come?" Asahi asked.

Nishinoya's eyebrows knit together, and the corner of his mouth turned down.

"Oh," Asahi said quietly as apprehension sparked inside him. "It's okay... if you don't want to." Had he overstepped? Kissing in secret was one thing but – maybe he'd mistaken it for something else.

"Asahi-san," Nishinoya said, "You need to just..." He put his hand wearily against his forehead. "You're giving me emotional whiplash here."

Asahi abruptly remembered that Nishinoya hadn't even gone home the night before, that he was still hungover and exhausted. "God, Nishinoya, I'm _so–_ "

"Don't you dare say you're sorry about kissing me, or I'll punch you in the jaw."

Asahi snapped his mouth shut. "Okay," he said instead. "I'm not sorry about that."

"Good."

Nishinoya looked tired but not unhappy. Asahi realized their hands were still linked together. Warmth swirled inside his ribcage. "We could just go back to the station for now," Asahi suggested. "Maybe dinner – this weekend?"

"Yeah," Nishinoya agreed, "That would be good."

There were the voices again, nearly on top of them, and an older couple came around the bend in the path. It was as though a stopper had been pulled on the scene; abruptly Asahi was aware how close they were standing together, and he pulled his hand out of Nishinoya's and took a few steps backward. Asahi felt his shoulders tense. He crossed his arm in front of himself and grabbed his elbow. But the couple seemed to take minimal notice of them as they passed. They continued on the path until they were out of sight again.

Asahi raised his eyes off the ground and saw that Nishinoya was glaring at him with his hands on his hips. He dropped his eyes again. "I'm sorry," he said, "I just didn't want them to think–"

"What, that we were making out in the woods?"

Asahi chuckled nervously.

Nishinoya looked in the direction that the couple had gone. "You worry too much, Asahi-san," he said. He seemed to think for a moment, then added, "this probably looks more like a drug deal going down than anything else, anyway."

"Oh _no_ ," Asahi moaned. He'd not even considered the possibility.

Asahi felt Nishinoya's eyes on him still. Another soft breeze rustled the leaves above their heads. The voices of the couple receded as they moved farther off. At length, Nishinoya said, "we can keep it a secret for real, if you want."

Asahi lifted his eyes again. Nishinoya looked resolute as always, but there was a softness to the corners of his eyes. Asahi realized it must've been a stretch for him to even consider the possibility – and that he'd probably offered the suggestion only as a concession to Asahi's shy nature.

Affection swelled inside him. "Maybe for a little bit," he said. "Until we're more sure."

"I've never been as sure about anything as you, Asahi-san," Nishinoya said.

Asahi felt a pang inside his chest, and the desire to touch Nishinoya again overwhelmed his apprehension. He reached forward with one hand, and Nishinoya stepped over to him, until Asahi could put his hand on Nishinoya's shoulder.

"I think I can be sure too," Asahi told him.

"That's kinda contradictory, Asahi-san," Nishinoya said.

Asahi laughed softly. "I get points for trying, right?"

"What is this?" Nishinoya said. "Little League?" He grabbed the front of Asahi's shirt and pulled him down again.

~

The train station was a good deal busier when they finally made it back. Nearly all the benches had been taken, but Nishinoya found them a small space to sit together. Asahi couldn't decide if he wished the station was deserted so they could be alone, or if he was thankful it was crowded so they could sit closely together without drawing suspicion. He draped his arm over the back of the bench behind Nishinoya, and he could almost imagine he'd put it down around Nishinoya's shoulders instead. They didn't speak much, but Asahi felt warm and happy all the same, with the soft sound of muted voices around them and the lengthening sunlight dousing the platform in a golden hue.

They didn't wait long for the next train to approach. When Nishinoya stood, Asahi began to get up as well, but Nishinoya held his hand out, palm vertical, a gesture that told Asahi to stay in place.

Nishinoya spoke, but the squealing brakes of the train covered up his voice.

"What?" Asahi said.

Behind Nishinoya, the doors of the train opened. People started boarding immediately. Asahi knew there were only a few seconds remaining in their evening together. A desperate feeling welled up inside him.

Nishinoya grabbed his hand. He leaned in, so close his warm breath ghosted over Asahi's ear. Time seemed to slow, the world fell silent around them, just as it had that morning in the gym.

"Asahi-san," Nishinoya whispered. "I love you."

He squeezed Asahi's hand hard, grabbed his bag off the floor, and ran for the train. He only just made it before the doors started to close. The train started moving, and then Nishinoya was gone.

Asahi put his hand over his chest. It seemed for a moment as though his heart would literally break through his sternum. He realized abruptly he'd not even remembered to ask for Nishinoya's phone number.


	4. Chapter 4

Somehow Asahi had managed to make it home, even though it felt as if his legs had turned to rubber. An awkward dinner with his mother followed – "Are you alright?" she had asked, when he'd stared at the same spot on the wall for five minutes, his forgotten chopsticks poised halfway to his still-open mouth – and now he found himself lying facedown on top of his still-made bed, breathing hotly into the fabric of his comforter.

Maybe he'd suffocate, he thought pleasantly.

Well. Nishinoya would probably be upset if he did, Asahi admitted to himself. He rolled over onto his back to stare at his ceiling instead. After all, Nishinoya had said–

Asahi grabbed his pillow and put it over his face, then groaned loudly into it. He'd been fine, up until that moment, everything had been perfect! Nishinoya hadn't been mad at him anymore, Asahi had been brave enough to tell him how he felt, and they'd kissed – Asahi put the pillow aside and touched his lips again for what felt like the hundredth time.

Asahi pulled out his phone and opened it, stared at the screen. What would he say? What _could_ he say? But he was afraid if he left it too long – if he said nothing – the moment they'd had together in the woods would fade and disperse, scatter like sand in the wind.

Asahi pulled up Suga's number.

 _/do you have Nishinoya's phone number/_ he texted.

A few moments later his phone buzzed. / _You dummy!_ _did you miss him I told you to run!/_

_/No I saw him/_

_/Asahi youre killing me what happened/_

_/can you just give me his number right now and ill explain later/_

_/ASAHI!!!/_

Asahi groaned and put his phone against his forehead. He clenched his eyes shut and breathed hard through his nose.

/ _Okay_ / Asahi texted. He chewed his thumbnail a bit before continuing. / _I saw him and we talked a little and now we're together i think/_

/ _TOGETHER together?/_

/ _Suga I don't know how else that could possibly be interpreted/_

/ _i'm so proud of you you walnut/_

/ _do you have his number or not/_

/ _i can't believe you don't have your own boyfriends phone number/_

Asahi started to text back, _he's not my boyfriend_ , but deleted it quickly. Was that the right word for it? It felt clunky inside his head. It sounded awkward and weird, like all the syllables that comprised it suddenly had no meaning. _Boyfriend_. Was that what Nishinoya was? It seemed like too big a step for only one day's worth of emotional turmoil. But it seemed too small a word for everything that Asahi wanted. He thought again about Nishinoya in the train station, the way his mouth had moved next to Asahi's ear, the sound of his voice when he'd said...

Asahi shivered. His phone buzzed in his hand and he realized Suga was calling him. He flipped the phone open and held it up to his ear. "Hey," Asahi said. He rubbed his forehead wearily.

Suga's voice sounded in his ear. "I somehow thought you'd sound more excited."

"I dunno, Suga. I feel..." Asahi searched for the right word. Overwhelmed. Panicked. Deliriously, mind-bogglingly, terrifyingly happy. "Worried."

"Why?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Asahi, this isn't like... open-heart surgery or anything," Suga said. "Your responsibilities are not life-and-death here."

Asahi sighed heavily.

"What're you so freaked out about?" Suga asked on the other end of the call.

Asahi closed his eyes. He remembered how it felt in the woods, how Nishinoya's body fit against his own. It had been easy then, and he'd not been too nervous in the train station either – not more than a pleasant excitement buzzing against his diaphragm. But the moment Nishinoya had left...

"What if I mess it up?" Asahi murmured. "What if I say the wrong thing or...or do something stupid and then he doesn't like me anymore–"

"Asahi," Suga cut in, "do you plan to mess it up?"

"I don't know!" Asahi blurted. "Maybe!"

Suga's laughter sounded tinny across the connection. "You'll be fine, Asahi. You care about him, don't you?"

"I do." The desperation of the statement closed up his throat momentarily. "I really really do, Suga," Asahi whispered.

"Then you'll be fine," Suga said gently.

In the beat of silence that echoed Suga's words, a third voice entered the conversation. "And the good news is you don't have to worry about distraction from volleyball. If anyone would hold your shoulder to the wheel, it'd be Nishinoya."

Asahi sat straight up in bed, heart jumping into his throat. "Daichi!" he yelped.

"Daichi, I told you not to say anything," Suga scolded.

"Suga?!"

"Yeah I, uh..." Suga chuckled. "Called him first then patched you in."

Asahi flopped back onto the bed. "I don't believe this," he groaned, "Suga, how could you..."

"You weren't going to talk to him otherwise," Suga said. "He was worried about you too, you know."

"Hey," Daichi said, "Come on, Suga."

"Look, if both of you plan on being emotionally constipated all the time, what else am I supposed to do?"

Asahi rubbed his hand down his face. "Other than ambush by conference call?"

"And suckerpunches?" Daichi asked.

"Necessary measures," Suga declared.

Relief bubbled up inside Asahi, came out of his mouth as laughter. "God, I can't keep anything away from you guys, can I?"

"I'm honestly surprised I didn't notice sooner," Suga admitted. "It seems so obvious in retrospect."

"It does clarify a lot," Daichi added.

"Does it?"

"Yeah, like..." Daichi elaborated, "you know, when he was so adamant that he wouldn't return without you."

"...when was this?"

"Didn't you tell him?" Daichi asked.

"I thought you told him," Suga returned.

"Guys?"

"Well," Suga said, "it wasn't a huge thing, really. When Nishinoya's suspension ended–"

"He still came to practice and everything," Daichi explained quickly. "But I think he really would've sat out on the games without you."

Asahi took it in silently. Nishinoya would've given up games for him? He heard Nishinoya's voice in his head again. Breath against his ear. The warm hand clutching his so tightly.

"Have you guys ever been in love?" Asahi asked.

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. Then, Suga said, "Are you in love, Asahi?"

"I think I am," Asahi returned.

"Well, that's." Suga cleared his throat. "That's really special."

"That sounds like something my mom would say."

"Hey," Suga said weakly, "I'm trying to be supportive over here. It's big stuff! And Daichi's no use with these things–"

"What makes you think I don't know about love?" Daichi said.

For a moment no one said anything, then Suga burst out, "Daichi! Are you in love with someone? Why didn't you tell me!"

"Well, you never asked, did you?"

"Daichi!" Suga cried furiously.

Asahi smiled into the empty space of his room and listened to them bicker on the other ends of the call. It hadn't seemed like such a big deal to say it to them. And they didn't seem to care one way or the other that it hadn't been a secret girlfriend after all. His friends, his best friends. Asahi closed his eyes and let their voices wash over him.

Maybe it didn't need to be that worrisome, after all.

~

Asahi woke with the phone open beside him and realized he'd fallen asleep during the call. Well, he'd hear all about _that_ at school. He'd still never gotten Nishinoya's number from Suga.

He smiled a little. It wasn't really something to say over the phone, anyway.

Light peeked in through his window. A quick glance at the clock told Asahi it was already morning, nearly five-thirty. He had time for breakfast, to walk leisurely to school. He had time to get to practice early, if he wanted.

He dressed quickly and made himself a simple breakfast. By the time his mother came downstairs in her robe, blearily rubbing the sleep from her eyes, he was already packing his bag.

"Asahi, dear," she said, "are you leaving already?"

"Yeah," he returned. "I got somebody I need to talk to."

The morning was cool, slightly damp but clear. The sun just peeked above the mountains, and everything along the road looked rosy. Asahi breathed deeply and felt the dewy air fill his lungs. The nervousness inside him had transmuted in the soft light of dawn into something... different. A little bit like hopefulness. A lot like excitement. But there was no sense of his usual anxiety of the unknown. Instead there a feeling of comfort – the sensation of being home, of being safe, the surety of the familiar. It was the same feeling he had around the dinner table with his brothers, when he sat next to his mother on the couch in the evenings and listened to the steady click of her knitting needles together, the sound of his dad rustling papers in the office he kept when he was home.

It was the feeling he had when he heard Nishinoya behind him on the court, the cadence of his name in Nishinoya's voice. Asahi thought again of the way his name had sounded whispered against his ear, and he shivered once more, though not unpleasantly. He quickened his gait.

The school grounds were empty. He was over a half hour early for morning practice, so it wasn't all that surprising. Had he even remembered the key to the gym or the clubroom? Asahi frowned. It would be unfortunate if he had to wait around for someone else to get there... Maybe he should've thought this through a little more...

As he approached the gym, he noticed the door was already open. He could hear the rhythmic sound of a ball inside, the particular noise it made as it struck against skin. There was only one pair of shoes in the cubbies. They were small, much smaller than his own. Asahi bit his lip. He clutched at the front of his shirt, right above the pounding in his chest.

Asahi stepped up to the door.

The net was already up, a ball cart out and to the side. Nishinoya was at the far end of the court. As Asahi watched, he dropped down to receive the ball curving through the air toward him. Odd. Asahi was curious how the ball got up in the air in the first place. It didn't look like anyone else was in the gym with him.

Nishinoya recieved the ball almost perfectly. It went up again at such an angle as to go back over the net. Well, it even happened to the best once in awhile. Asahi took a step into the gym, then froze as Nishinoya shot forward. He ducked under the net, rolled, popped back up facing the opposite direction, in the perfect position to receive the ball again. It went up once more, at the same angle. He repeated the process.

Asahi watched Nishinoya make a few more passes. He was mesmerized by the fluidity of Nishinoya's movement – the play of muscle beneath his skin, the way his shirt pulled taut across his shoulders, the squeak of his shoe against the floor as he stopped in place. Asahi knew if he didn't say anything, Nishinoya wouldn't notice him, so clear and sharp was his focus. He watched Nishinoya's upturned face as he scrutinized the ball, gauged its angle of attack and dipped down again. As he did so, the muscles in his calves flexed and the fabric of his shorts pulled tight around his hips.

Asahi felt himself pink at that last thought. He looked down at his feet, his ears burning. His eyes landed on a stray ball just off to his left, and he smiled.

When Asahi bounced the ball hard at the end of the court, Nishinoya's head popped up from the other side of the net. The moment he saw Asahi, his face seemed to show at least five conflicting emotions in rapid succession. Asahi thought he saw joy and apprehension among them.

Asahi grinned at Nishinoya and bounced the ball again. The corner of Nishinoya's mouth turned up. He dropped down, knees bent, palms up. Ready. Waiting.

Asahi tossed the ball in the air. He swung as hard as he safely could without a warm-up. The ball shot through the air and cleared the net easily. Nishinoya received it without any trouble. It came up again, the same angle as before, back over the net toward Asahi. But it was a little short, and Asahi nearly had to dive to get underneath it. He felt his knee burn as it skidded on the floor unprotected, but he got the ball back up again, over the net once more. He popped up as quickly as he could, and when Nishinoya sent it back over, it was close enough to the net for him to jump and knock it nearly straight down.

"Not fair!" Nishinoya shouted as he dove for the ball. He missed it by centimeters, then lay on the floor a minute while absorbing his loss. "Not fair," he said again, more softly.

Asahi crouched next to him. "You're not fair either, Nishinoya."

Nishinoya's face bloomed red. He pushed himself up on his hands and sat on his knees with his legs tucked underneath him. He looked at the floor.

Asahi reached out to grab Nishinoya's shoulders. Nishinoya didn't resist when Asahi pulled him forward until they came together underneath the net, and he didn't resist when Asahi kissed him.

Asahi lifted one hand from Nishinoya's shoulder to cup his face. He felt Nishinoya's fingers curl into his shirt. Asahi kissed him as though it could convey the promise he'd felt since waking up that morning, the feeling he'd had when he'd stepped into the gym and seen Nishinoya there.

At length Asahi pulled back, and Nishinoya opened his eyes. He had that same guarded look he'd had the day before, the cautious optimism that he'd had before Suga interrupted them and started the whole misunderstanding.

Asahi used his thumb to trace the delicate curve of Nishinoya's ear. "You're not fair," he murmured. "You didn't even give me a chance to say it back."

Nishinoya's forehead creased. He bit his lip. He threw himself against Asahi with such force that it knocked Asahi off balance, and they tumbled together onto the floor. Nishinoya looped his arms around Asahi's neck, buried his face against the skin of Asahi's throat. His hair tickled Asahi's face.

"Sorry," he said softly. His voice sounded thick.

Asahi wrapped his arms around Nishinoya's back. One hand crossed upward to grab Nishinoya's shoulder, the other closed over his hip. Asahi turned his face into Nishinoya's hair. He didn't care that Nishinoya was sweaty, that his hair smelled like gel. For a minute the world felt perfect. For a minute he thought they could go on forever, just as they were. He felt Nishinoya's face turn up, and Asahi tilted his down to meet him.

They kissed with fervor, open-mouthed and desperate. Nishinoya shifted on top of Asahi until he was straddling his waist. He grabbed Asahi's head in both hands, held him in place while he delved his tongue into Asahi's mouth.

It was a different sort of kissing than they'd done the previous day in the woods. Asahi was acutely aware of the heat and pressure of Nishinoya's legs against his body. He stroked his hands down Nishinoya's thighs from hip to knee. As Asahi slipped them up again, the hem of Nishinoya's shorts caught against his palm and shifted up his leg. Asahi felt the taut expanse of Nishinoya's warm skin under his hand, and his fingers tightened involuntarily. He stroked his thumb experimentally along the inside of Nishinoya's thigh, shamefully close to where it joined the rest of his body.

Nishinoya made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh and clenched his legs around Asahi's torso. He folded downward until they were pressed tightly together from sternum to hip. As he moved, Asahi groaned aloud at the way their bodies shifted against each other. Nishinoya let go of his mouth and instead fixed his lips against Asahi's neck, right where it met his shoulder. He dug his fingers into Asahi's hair and tugged almost painfully hard. Asahi felt some of it come loose from his bun.

Desire burned hot and low in Asahi's abdomen, churning so fiercely in his gut that it was both terrifying and exhilarating. He bent his legs at the knee, lifting them from the floor, which brought his thighs close to the swell of Nishinoya's ass. Asahi grabbed at Nishinoya's hips. He wanted to forget that they were in the gym, that the rest of the team would be there soon. He wanted to push Nishinoya down until he straddled Asahi's hips instead of his waist, but Asahi was paralyzed by the sudden feeling that they were tumbling uncontrollably down a hill – the momentum of their situation increasing beyond his ability to halt it.

He was saved from the decision by the sound of Hinata and Kageyama's familiar morning shouting match drifting in from the grounds. Nishinoya froze on top of Asahi; his mouth stilled against Asahi's throat. He sat up, breathing hard. "Goddamnit," he mumbled. His voice was husky.

Asahi swallowed hard and nodded. He tightened his grip on Nishinoya's hips and lifted Nishinoya off his stomach as he sat up. Asahi set him gently aside, struck by the sudden parallel of the motion from two nights previous. But this time, Nishinoya's face looked entirely different – flushed from something other than alcohol, his eyes dark and hooded.

Asahi crossed his ankles and put his arms down in the bowl created by his legs. With his elbows straight and his hands on the floor, it was almost enough to hide his body's reaction. Nishinoya watched the movement, then grinned at him sheepishly. He was sitting on his feet with his knees together, hands in his lap. Asahi pointedly looked at his face instead.

"We should, uh," Asahi said, "probably talk about this."

"Yeah," Nishinoya agreed. "To be continued." Abruptly he looked guilty. He gestured vaguely at his neck with one hand. "Um."

"What?"

Nishinoya tapped his index finger right next to the collar of his t-shirt. "Um, you have. A mark."

Asahi clapped his hand over the spot as mortification flooded his stomach. "Nishinoya!"

"I'm sorry! I got carried away!"

Asahi opened his mouth to say more, but the shouting outside reached the doorway, and Kageyama and Hinata wrestled their way into the gym together.

"It doesn't count today!" Hinata insisted.

"Don't make excuses!" Kageyama returned.

"No, I told you! My lock was broken and you got a head start!"

"That sounds like an excuse!"

"It's _NOT_."

"You need to be able to deal with unexpected obstacles!"

"Like you dealt with getting your pants caught in the door?"

"That was _one time_!"

In that moment, Hinata noticed them sitting together beneath the net, and he pulled up short. "Asahi-san, Noya-san. What are you doing?"

Asahi looked at Nishinoya in alarm, his hand still on his neck.

"Hey, you know!" Nishinoya started haltingly. He laughed and rubbed the back of his head. "We're... strategizing!"

"Strategizing?"

"Yeah! Planning some new attacks and stuff! Right, Asahi-san?" Nishinoya concluded his sentence by socking Asahi hard in the bicep.

Asahi winced and grabbed at his arm. "Y-yeah."

"Oooooh!" Hinata fisted his hands in front of his body. "That's so cool!"

Nishinoya stood up. "Asahi-san, why don't you get the playbook out of the clubroom? C'mon, Shouyou, let's get the rest of the stuff set up." He brushed past Asahi, rested his hand briefly against Asahi's shoulder.

As they headed toward the supply closet, Asahi heard Kageyama ask, "What kind of attacks are you planning without a setter?" and Hinata's dramatic groan of frustration in return.

There was a mirror in the clubroom, and Asahi took a moment to fix his hair properly. He was relieved it was the simpler first year duo that had found them – not someone more shrewd like Ennoshita or more crass like Tanaka. Either of them would have taken one look at the two of them sitting on the floor together, both flushed and disheveled, and come away with more than a little suspicion.

He examined the place where Nishinoya had marked him, just above his clavicle, right next to his collar. It wasn't very large or dark – could have been mistaken for a simple bruise anywhere else on his body. The collar of his uniform would cover it, but not a t-shirt. Asahi frowned. Would a band-aid be more or less obvious? It was too low to say he'd cut himself shaving. He sighed and dug around for the first aid kit. He needed to take care of his complaining knee, anyway.

He was struck by how incredibly foolish it had been – what if someone else had found them first? What if they'd come into the gym quietly, without warning, and caught them in the act? What if Daichi had seen them – or Ukai or Takeda? Or an administrator? Asahi couldn't believe the risk they'd taken, and yet...

And yet he found himself grinning madly when he glanced in the mirror.

The clubroom door opened, and Suga came in, yawning aloud. "Well, hello there, Rip Van Winkle," he said when he saw Asahi standing there.

The unfamiliar syllables bounced off Asahi's ears. "What?"

"Nevermind," Suga said as he yawned again. He blinked and then looked at Asahi more clearly. "You seem. Very happy."

Asahi ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck, but he couldn't seem to stop smiling. "It's been a pretty good day."

"Whatever it is, I don't really want to know," Daichi said as he came in behind Suga, and Suga kicked behind himself until he connected with Daichi's shin.

"Anyway," Suga continued, "I tried to ask you last night, but you were already out... don't you already have Nishinoya's number? I mean, he texted you from the gym the other night, right?"

Asahi's mouth dropped open. "Oh. I. Oh." He'd actually had it since before Inter-high, when Nishinoya insisted on being able to know his whereabouts twenty-four hours a day, in case Asahi dodged practice again. But in his nervousness he'd never even used it before Nishinoya had drunk-texted him. And in the wake of everything that had happened in the subsequent day and a half, he'd entirely forgotten it was already in his contacts.

"An inspiration, as always," Daichi said as he winced and rubbed his leg.

When Asahi made it back to the gym, most of the team had shown up. He caught Nishinoya's eye from across the court and felt suddenly shy. Asahi raised his hand and gave a little wave, at which point Suga promptly shoved him so hard he nearly fell over.

Asahi crossed the floor, heart fluttering inside him. Was he always going to feel like this, seeing Nishinoya the first time again, even after an absence of only a few minutes?

Asahi hoped so.

"Hi," he said as he approached.

"Hi," Nishinoya said back. He was smiling with his entire face; the grin crinkled at his eyes and dimpled his cheeks. Asahi thought he'd never get tired of that sort of look.

"Hello," Tanaka said. "Hi. Hi there. How's it going? Hello. Good morning." and Nishinoya elbowed him hard in the side.

"Asahi-san," Nishinoya said, "d'you wanna come home with me this afternoon?"

"Okay," Asahi said. "Yes." He felt eyes on him and looked at Tanaka, who was peering at his neck intensely. Asahi clapped his hand over the band-aid he'd put on the spot.

Tanaka pointed at him and burst out laughing.

"Ryuu, _I swear to God_!" Nishinoya shouted, and he tackled Tanaka around the waist.

Asahi took a few steps backward, out of arms reach of the brawl. "Hm," came Ennoshita's voice close behind him, and Asahi jumped. "What're they on about now?"

"Well," Asahi chuckled nervously and shifted from foot-to-foot. "You know how they are."

"Unfortunately," Ennoshita intoned.

The fight ended with Nishinoya and Tanaka laughing boisterously, their arms looped around each other. Then Daichi shouted for everyone to line up, and that was that.

Practice had nearly finished before they found another moment to speak to each other. Nishinoya stood next to him as they did their cool down. Asahi noted his fine wrists and delicate fingers while he stretched. Asahi would later think about those fingers a shameful amount.

"This afternoon, then?" Nishinoya asked him.

"Yeah," Asahi agreed. "This afternoon."

Nishinoya reached up and tugged on Asahi's ear affectionately. Even though his knee smarted, even though he had a poorly-hidden hickey on his neck, Asahi couldn't help but grin in return.

He'd still never said it aloud, had he? Oh well, he mused. There would still be time for that, after all. And Asahi was ready to get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say a big thank you to lilienpasse and dietsoba for beta-ing this work. Thanks for reading!


End file.
